No Such Thing As An Easy Hunt
by Jasmineisland
Summary: One Shot Another prompt at the ohsam comment fic meme on Live Journal. prompt: Set season 1 or 2. Sam and Dean are at a Christmas tree farm like place, for whatever reason. Somehow a tree/trees fall on Sam, he gets covered in many scratches and bruises. Lots of protective!Dean, Hurt/comfort and Gen only please.


_Another prompt at the __**ohsam**__ comment fic meme. prompt:_  
_Set season 1 or 2. Sam and Dean are at a Christmas tree farm like place, for whatever reason. Somehow a tree/trees fall on Sam, he gets covered in many scratches and bruises. Lots of protective!Dean, Hurt/comfort and Gen only please._

"Come on, Sammy! Find the right tree, drag it out, salt it, burn it, and get back to Bobby's in time to eat some pie and drink some beer!"

"Right, Dean." Even without looking at Sam, Dean could just hear the eye roll that accompanied his words. "Find the cursed tree – THE- cursed tree. In a fucking tree farm. Piece of cake."

"PIE! Sammy, PIE! There is a difference." Still grinning, Dean shoved lighter fluid and salt in his jacket. Handing Sam the chainsaw, he hefted an axe. "Come on, you managed to narrow it down to at least how tall it is, right?"

"Yeah. Has to be between fifteen and twenty five feet tall."

"Good. Starting place." Heading off to the taller section of the farm, Dean shrugged. "All else fails, we can torch everything between fifteen and twenty five."

"And how do we stop the rest of the farm from going?" With a couple longer steps, Sam caught up with his brother. "Or is that the master plan."

"Back up plan."

"Doesn't this sound strange to you?"

"Are you new? Strange is the job description, Sammy."

"Not- no shit, Dean. I mean Bobby sending us on this? Nobody's hurt, nobody's dying. Just a fucking tree that tends to drop shit on people- non lethal shit- and smack them around with branches. Not the kind of stuff he usually drops in our lap."

"I thought you were the emo-touchy-feely one of us. Didn't know you were the dense one, too."

"What the hell does that mean? I'm just asking if you think it's weird that Bobby would throw a case at us where nobody's dying."

"That happens to be two hours from his house. Hello? McFly?" To make his point, Dean reached up and knocked on Sam's head.

With a swipe of his arm, Sam batted his brother's knuckles away from him. "Why didn't get just tell us to get our asses up there? Not like we'd say no. I mean-" his voice trailed off. "Because Bobby doesn't want to say 'Come spend Christmas with me', right?"

"Shit." Dean almost threw the chainsaw. "Forgot Christmas. THAT'S why he wants us there."

"Not we celebrated a lot- I mean, after that year."

Neither of them had to mention that Sam was talking about the year that he'd discovered their father's journal. That was the last Christmas John had even tried to put up a pretense of celebrating the holidays with the boys.

"If this is going to be another round of what Dad didn't do for you, I don't want to hear it."

Dean's temper was volatile these days, and Sam knew what topics were completely off limits to him. "I'm not saying anything, Dean. I swear. I don't want to fight with you anymore. Lets' just get this done before I freeze my fucking balls off."

Moment over, Dean laughed. "Sammy, your balls are gonna freeze off, but it'll be from lack of use, not the temperature."

"Bite me."

"Thank genetics THAT offer isn't on the table." Again, Dean didn't have to see his brothers face to know he was getting an epic eye-roll. "Number 22 or 23?"

"What?"

"Bitchface, kiddo. Can't quite make it out. Number 22 or 23?"

"After spending so much time with you, it's probably more like 220 or 230." Sam was kidding, but Dean turned to him.

"You got a problem?"

"Jesus, Dean, will you for Christ's sake lighten up? Burning down a tree? Maybe a whole forest? Then beer and pie?" They had been maintaining a very tentative truce since their father had died a few months ago. Their latest brush with the demon virus hadn't helped. But these days Sam had absolutely no idea what would set his brother off. And he hated it.

"Let's just get the bonfire going."

They moved quickly through the smaller trees, but they hadn't gotten far into the larger trees before a branch swung down and literally smacked Sam in the face. Before he even hit the ground, Dean was beside him, ducking down and moving to him.

"I keep telling you that your too fucking tall, Sasquatch. Missed me completely, but boom, right in that way too tall ass of yours."

"I'm fine, thanks." Resisting the urge to rub the spot on his back where he'd landed, Sam got back to his feet. "Guessing we're close." The trees were so thick it was hard to tell which branch came from where. It was like walking under one big canopy of trees.

"Let's figure this out." He ducked another branch. "Okay, the closer we get, the more shit this bitch is gonna throw at us? So we move around until it gets really pissed."

"And once it knocks us both out, we'll know we have it?"

"Once it knocks YOU out, skyscraper Sammy."

Before he could stop himself, Sam laughed. "I'm gonna get down on my hands and knees, so I'll just be your height." He saw another one coming. "Down!" Reaching to shove Dean's head out of the way while he was lowering his own body, he wasn't fast enough. Dean was clear, but the tree branch caught him in the side and knocked him on his ass. Again.

This time Dean just laughed. "Big ass target!"

Halfheartedly, Sam pitched a handful of snow at his brother. "Fuck you."

"I think the tree is saying the same thing to you."

Standing again, Sam kept his knees bent and his back slightly hunched. Picking a direction, he started to move. More branches began to sweep towards him, but he was ready. Ducking down, he moved it a broad circle, picking to see where more branches moved towards him. Without seeing, he knew his brother was doing the same not far from him.

"Sam! Come towards me, I think we're close. Shit!" A thud that could only be Dean hitting the ground came to Sam's ears.

"Duck, dumbass!" He started to laugh until a branch came down on his back. Hard enough to knock the wind out of him. "Son of a bitch!"

Dean's laughter carried across. "Duck, dumbass!"

As Sam got closer to one particular tree, branches hit him harder. On a hunch, Sam yanked the line on the chainsaw and started it up. As soon as the chain bit into the bark, about ten branches came down at once.

"SAM!"

More branches were moving towards Sam. "Get the tree!" Crawling, the tall hunter kept his head ducked so the branches couldn't hit them. They were coming harder, leaving what he knew were going to be spectacular bruises where they struck him.

The roar of the chainsaw drowned out everything for about three minutes. As Sam crawled around under the mass of branches, he barely heard his brother yelling "Fall you fucker!" in the sudden silence.

"Sam MOVE!"

Before he could even process what his brother meant, something very large landed right on him. For a moment, the next breath wouldn't come. He made out something over the roar in his ears that sounded like his name. The weight suddenly lifted and he inhaled with a sharp gasp.

"Sammy?" Strong hands flipped him over. "Say something."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, that looked like it hurt."

Dean's hands felt gently along his ribs, and when they reached his waist, Sam reached for him. "Dinner first, you pushy bastard."

"I'll feed you as soon as we finish the barbeque. Just need to know if anything's broken."

"No. Just a little beat up."

"Sit tight. Got a tree to burn."

For a few minutes, Sam was content to watch his brother drag the tree to a clearing. But he got to his feet and made his way over just as Dean dropped the match.

"Sure you're okay?"

The motion of nodding made his stomach turn and he stumbled.

Watching his brother, Dean sighed. "Beer and pie, Sammy. Just stay vertical for a few more minutes."

"Working on it."

The trek back to the car was a miserable one for Sam. The two hour trip to Bobby's was worse. It wasn't lost on Dean just how much shifting, sighing, and folding the tall hunter had to do in the confines of the car. When it took him nearly five full minutes to make it to his feet in Bobby's yard, Dean had enough watching him suffer in silence.

"You sure nothing's broke?"

"Yeah. Just-"  
"I heard. Beat up. Everywhere."

"The pinky on my left hand doesn't hurt." He tried to smile, but a large bruise on his cheek even made that painful. Reaching the stairs, he sighed. Before he could even finish the thought of how painful it was going to be to climb them, he felt an arm gently reach around his waist.

"Come on, Sammy. Take it slow."

Grateful, Sam draped his arm over Dean's shoulders and let his brother help him climb the stairs.

"What the hell?" Bobby stared at them as they walked through the door.

"Sammy thought catching the tree when it fell would be a good plan."

"Dean thought cutting the tree towards me would be a good plan."

"I know you boys have been taught there's no such thing as a simple hunt, but do you two idjits actually LOOK for ways to make it harder?"

"He wasn't paying attention." Dean barked an excuse.

"He wasn't paying attention." Sam's tone was actually whiny.

"Idits."

The boys moved towards the living room.

"Don't even think about it. Christ you two smell like you rolled on those air fresheners they hang in taxis while you were smoking cigars."

It took a few minutes, but Sam climbed the stairs and made it to the bedroom. When he felt his jacket being pulled from his shoulders, he turned. "Thought we agreed dinner first."

"Keep dreamin', Sasquatch. Wanna do this on your own or shut up and let me help?" It wasn't really a question, since Dean continued to strip Sam's shirts from his body while he asked. When he saw his brother's bare back, he stopped. There wasn't an inch of skin that wasn't bruised. "Jesus, Sammy. That tree flat kicked your ass."

"Yeah, got a few bruises there, too."

"Go take a hot shower. Do wonders for you. I'll go get the bags."

When the hot water hit Sam's back, he was tempted to just stand there until the last drop. But he'd never hear the end of it from his brother, and he knew it.

Exiting the bathroom in the sweats and the stretched out hoodie Dean had laid out for him, Sam reached for the beer and pills offered to him.

"You want to go back down, you want to crash?"

"Couch sounds good."

It was a little better, but it still took time to get Sam downstairs and settled on the sofa. Dean was only gone a minute, but he had several ice packs that he'd apparently packed while Sam was in the shower. Reaching around his brother's shoulders, Dean placed one behind the left side of his rib cage.

The ice felt good through the thin material and Sam sighed. Before he could even thank his brother, another ice pack appeared and was place gently above his right shoulder. When the third pack settled behind his neck, Sam could only sigh. Without even having to say a word, Dean had placed ice in the places that hurt the most.

Closing his eyes, Sam let is body relax into the sofa.

"Hey."

A small plate with a sandwich appeared in front of him.

"Thanks."

"Eat up, Sammy."

Sam hadn't realized how hungry he was, and the sandwich was gone in a matter of a minute or two. Before he could say a word the plate disappeared and another plate, with a larger sandwich, appeared. "You need to eat, too, Dean."

"I'll make another one. You're obviously hungry."

"Yeah, guess I am." The pills were starting to take effect and he moved a bit easier.

Reaching behind him, Dean moved the ice packs to different spots. "Could probably just pour bags of ice on the floor and lay you in them to hit all the bruises." When a large hand reached for his beer, Dean grabbed the bottle. "I'll give you my food, but I draw the line at my beer."

"Bullshit. You draw the line at your pie." This time he reached for the bottle and successfully took it away from the older man.

"I'd put bruises in places you don't have bruises for the pie."

"I'll be sure to hide my pinky, since that's the only spot left." A second empty plate disappeared and, as soon as the bottle was empty, it did as well. The moment Sam decided to slide down so his head could lean on the back of the sofa, Dean grabbed the ice bags.

"You ready to go upstairs?"

"Nah. Fine here." Once he stopped shifting, the ice bags reappeared on his shoulder and side. Sam didn't open his eyes when he heard Bobby come in and sit in the chair opposite them.

"How is he?"

"Beat up, but he'll be okay." Was the last thing Sam heard.

It was several hours later when Sam opened his eyes. For a minute, he stared around, unsure of where he was. When he realized he was lying on Bobby's couch, he sighed. Bobby and Dean had apparently gone to bed.

"You okay?"

Dean's voice startled him, and he looked up. His brother hadn't gone to bed. He was actually sleeping with his head on Dean's leg. Nodding, Sam started to sit up, but he back grabbed.

"Stay still." Reaching over, the older hunter reached for a glass next to some pills he'd put out before he sat on the sofa. "Gonna lift you up a little." He handed Sam the glass and put both hands under his brother.

Swallowing the pills and drinking the water, Sam relaxed back against his brother. It was nice to have Dean take care of him again. Not that he'd ever admit it, but it was worth getting his ass kicked by a fucking tree.


End file.
